


15 Minute Fics (April)

by Ehliena



Series: 15 minute fics [1]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cupcakes, Established Relationship, F/M, Female Bilbo, Gen, M/M, courting, even without the eagles, gandalf could have saved them all
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-02
Updated: 2015-04-29
Packaged: 2018-03-20 20:51:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 11,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3664503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ehliena/pseuds/Ehliena
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fics written in 15 minutes according to the prompt.</p><p>1. Phone<br/>2. Pray<br/>3. Ochre<br/>4. Steel<br/>5. Bacon<br/>6. Random<br/>7. Jet<br/>8. Cream<br/>9. Shorts<br/>10. Placid<br/>11. Glass<br/>12. Book<br/>13. Blood<br/>14. Strings<br/>15. Brimstone</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Phone

**Author's Note:**

> So, these are fics that are going to be written in just 15 minutes (yes, I might cheat and clean it up a bit before posting it.) I have 14 prompts thus far, I plan to make it all Bagginshield, or containing hints of Bagginshield.
> 
> More prompts are welcome.

Bilbo stared at his phone. It was only that afternoon that Thorin had asked for his number. There was no way that the jock would even consider texting him before the recommended three days of waiting were up. Bilbo wasn’t even certain that Thorin was serious. For all he knew, it was all an elaborate prank, another one of those geek-baiting schemes that the popular clique loved to do.

“I’m being silly,” Bilbo said to himself. “I’m a Baggins, not some Bracegirdle, I should have more sense than this.”

That said, Bilbo placed his phone on his bookshelf, far enough for him not to check on it every few seconds, but close enough for him to reach for it if ever a message arrived. Bilbo decided to do his homework, maths first because it tended to be the one that needed the most concentration and not because Calculus was the class that he and Thorin shared. He opened his notebook to the page with the assignment on it and took out a scratch sheet.

The first problem was easy, a review of a problem they had done in class. The second one was trickier, needing Bilbo to try to solve it three different ways before he was satisfied that he got the correct answer. By the third question, Thorin and the possibility of him sending Bilbo a message was far from the nerd’s mind. Which was why Bilbo was startled when his phone vibrated.

“Deep breath Baggins,” Bilbo said as he glared at his phone. “It’s not necessarily him. It could be anyone.”

And it was. His mother just sent him a text saying that she and his father were going to be late, not that that was unusual, so Bilbo should just heat up some leftovers and not wait for them.

Bilbo sighed. Of course it was his mother, it was always his mother. Most of his phone’s inbox were messages from his parents, there were messages from friends too, Bofur and Ori, notably, but those were rare, given that they spent most of the day together.

He set the phone back on the bookshelf and got back to work on his homework. By the time he finished the problem set, all ten items, the sun had already begun to set. Bilbo stretched in his seat, debating on whether to start reading his history book or to eat dinner. His stomach gave out a protest at the thought of doing more homework, a protest seconded by his brain, so he decided to head to the kitchen and make himself some dinner.

As he passed his bookshelf, he wondered whether or not he should bring his phone along. Bilbo shook his head. He considered himself mature for his age and he wasn’t going to be one of those teenagers who hung on to their phones night and day. He left his phone on the bookshelf.

He spent roughly an hour in the kitchen, making food, eating said food, and then cleaning up after himself. Bilbo would have gone directly back to his room, but he decided to sneak a smoke on the terrace. His parents didn’t know about his habit, so he had to make it quick.

That said, when he got back to his room, a message was waiting for him.

**Thorin: Hi.**

A message that was received over an hour ago, just after Bilbo went down to dinner. Bilbo shook his head. The gods were just crazy. He picked up his phone and started typing in his reply.


	2. Pray

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin wasn't the type to pray, but certain situations are just out of his hands.

Thorin wasn’t really a religious person. Sure, he celebrated Durin’s Day like any dwarf. He gave praise and thanks to Mahal for making them and to Eru for giving them life, he even praised Mahal’s wife, Yavanna for nature’s bounty. But he wasn’t as devout as other dwarves. The Valar were gracious, but he believed in making his own way in life.

The situation he was currently in, however, had him praying like he had never prayed before. He paced the hallways outside the medical wing, waiting for any sign that Bilbo’s ordeal was over. Nine months in the making, their firstborn was trying to make his way into the world, but all Thorin could think about was how sweaty and red in the face Bilbo was when the midwife rushed her inside a private room reserved for labouring women and shooed Thorin out to wait in the general ward (King or not, Thorin was then forced to leave said ward since he was disturbing the patients with his pacing.)

Thorin was never there for either of Dis’ deliveries. His nephews chose to arrive during the day, when Thorin was out in the forge. Vili was present for Kili’s birth though, and Thorin suspected that the experience was the reason why they never had another child, despite Dis’ wishing for more children.

When Thorin was still inside the general ward, he could hear Bilbo’s panting and groaning. He also heard the midwife’s reprimands.

“Don’t cry Highness,” the midwife had said. “You need to save your strength for when the child comes.”

“But it hurts so much,” Bilbo had complained between panting.

“You can get through it my lady, just breathe through it.”

Thorin had wanted to go to her then. He couldn’t stand the thought of Bilbo in pain and alone (she wasn’t really alone, seeing as she was attended by several nurses and a midwife, but still Thorin wanted to be there for her.)

He was forcibly removed from the ward when he heard Bilbo cry out from a rather painful contraction and he tried to enter the birthing room.

“OUT!” the midwife had said as soon as Thorin entered. “You are not clean!”

A nurse escorted him to the door of the wards. As a precaution to prevent Thorin from entering the birthing room again, Dwalin was called to guard him. They would have sent for Dori too, but Thorin promised to stay away.

“Bilbo’s a strong lass,” Dwalin reassured him. “She’ll pull through just fine. Your son or daughter will too.”

Thorin just nodded and kept pacing, kept praying to Mahal, Yavanna, and any Valar who was listening to help his wife.

Hours later, his prayers were answered and their daughter came loudly into the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A big thanks to those who are following this work, especially to those who are giving me words! I really need the practice since I'm a bit rusty when it comes to writing stuff.
> 
> Regarding Vili not wanting more children after he saw Kili's birth, that's just something I noticed when I was exposed to a live birth. Some of my classmates were fine when we were still in the labor room, but as soon as we stepped into the delivery room, they suddenly went pale. Good thing nobody fainted. 
> 
> Anyway, I'm still looking forward to more words, as comments or prompts. ^.^


	3. Ochre

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Picking out colors

Bilbo was in the sitting room browsing through patches of cloth with his brow furrowed when Thorin entered their rooms. Bilbo raised her head at his entry and held out the samples towards him.

“Help me!” she said, shaking her head at the multitude of hues for just one color. “There are so many colors to choose from, what if I get it wrong?”

“Ghivashel,” Thorin said, striding towards her and setting aside the samples. “There is no need to rush, the babe won’t be here any time soon.”

Bilbo smiled as Thorin cupped her belly. She wasn’t even twelve weeks along yet, but she was bigger than most hobbits at this length of their pregnancy. The midwife Oin introduced her to assured her that the babe was fine. It was probably because the babe was half-dwarf which was why her belly was higher than it should have been.

“Focus my King,” she said, showing him another swatch of fabric. “Does this look yellow to you? It seems like a dark sort of yellow, don’t you think?”

“It’s a shade called ochre, if I’m not mistaken,” Thorin took the swatch and checked the label. “Yes, here it is.”

“Oh,” Bilbo said blinking her eyes in confusion. “They had labels all along? How could I have missed that?”

“Perhaps you were just overwhelmed with the multitude of colors available?”

Bilbo looked thoughtful as she nodded her head. Thorin wasn’t even certain why she seemed so stressed about the baby’s linens and wardrobe since she wasn’t due for a long time yet, so he asked.

“I just want this little one to have something that was made just for him,” Bilbo explained.

“Or her,” Thorin pointed out. He would love a son, but a daughter who looked like Bilbo would be a dream come true for him.

“Or her,” Bilbo agreed. “Her nursery has been a nursery since before your time. Her cradle belonged to her aunt. Most of her furniture is older than you are. I want her to feel like we prepared something special for her. So help me choose a color?”

Thorin smiled. He had no idea about matching colors, but if his wife needed his help for something that their child will use, then he would gladly swim through swatches of cloth deciding which shade of color would best suit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea regarding colors. My cousin just gave me a hard set of words which included ochre so this was written.


	4. Steel

Hobbits used metals mainly for their farming tools. Since Bilbo was living in the Lonely Mountain now, he had to get used to the ringing of steel on steel, as most dwarves tended to go around wearing some form of armour or another and definitely with a blade, which was either concealed or in plain view.

The Company had insisted that he should carry around Sting wherever he went, or wear that mithril vest that Thorin had given him. While he did wear the vest, it was so light that Bilbo saw no reason not to, he thought that wearing Sting would be overkill.

“Bilbo,” Kili had warned. “Not all the dwarves have forgiven you for the whole Arkenstone debacle. You should take precautions.”

“My brother is right, Master Burglar,” Fili added. “Dwarves are known to hold grudges. Nothing short of a miracle would get us to withdraw them.”

“A miracle or a near-death experience,” Kili joked, referring to his Uncle’s retraction of Bilbo’s banishment.

“Your uncle wasn’t in his right mind,” Bilbo defended. “And when he was, we quickly made up. It was partly my fault too, you know.”

“Ah, but you forget Uncle has his pride,” Fili said.

“And Uncle takes pride in his pride,” Kili chimed in.

“He wouldn’t have taken back the banishment for anything less than—“

What Fili was going to say was cut off when Thorin himself strode into Bilbo’s sitting room. The occupants stared at him wondering. It wasn’t usual for Thorin to be anywhere but his office or in the audience chamber during the day, and it wasn’t even half past two in the afternoon. Something must have made him come, and judging by his pensive look, it bothered him a lot.

“Boys,” Thorin said. “May I have a word with Master Baggins? In private?”

Fili and Kili looked at each other and shared a secret smile. As they left the room, Kili gave Bilbo a wink, which the hobbit confused the hobbit.

“Bilbo,” Thorin began as soon as the door shut behind Kili. “I have heard distressing reports that indicate that half of my people still hold a grudge against you for your actions prior to the Battle.”

“Fili and Kili have told me the same, your Majesty,” Bilbo answered. “And it doesn’t really bother me. Folk will gossip and hold grudges, there’s nothing I can do about that.”

“But as their King, there is something I can do about it,” Thorin said as he held out a ring.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If I seemed like I was rambling in this one, I apologise.
> 
> As for the cliff-hanger, well... I ran out of time.


	5. Bacon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Breakfast

As soon as Bilbo woke up, he was planning his breakfast, First Breakfast to be exact. He supposed he could just have tea and some toast, with jam and honey of course, before he went out to tend to his garden.

That decided, he stretched and looked over to the two people that were sharing his bed. Thorin was on the other side of the bed, already awake and watching him. With a grin, Bilbo put a finger against his own lips, indicating that they should be quiet so as not to rouse the lump that was gently snoring between them.

Frodo was a blessing that the couple had never thought they would have. True, he came to them through a tragedy, his parents dying in a boating accident on the Long Lake as they were visiting Bilbo. It was a good thing they left Frodo in the Mountain when they went out that day. The poor boy was only two when it happened the previous year, and while Bilbo did have plans for them to visit the Shire, it wasn’t going to be until the lad was older.

His husband raised an eyebrow. Frodo wasn’t there when they went to bed the night before, but they were used to him sneaking in whenever he had nightmares. That or one, or the both, of them would hear him crying in the night and go get him from his room. Thankfully, Frodo’s nightmares seemed to lessen with time.

“Breakfast?” Bilbo asked. First Breakfast was usually something that the hobbit shared with his husband early in the morning before the Kingdom made demands on its king.

Thorin nodded and they slowly tried to get out of bed, carefully so as not to wake Frodo. But even with their caution, the fauntling groggily raised his head.

“First brkfst?” He asked with one eye slowly opening.

“In a bit dear one,” Bilbo sighed. “Go back to sleep.”

“Bacon?” Frodo asked, tilting his head towards the side of the closed eye.

“For Second Breakfast maybe?” Bilbo suggested.

“Bacon!” Frodo enthused as he positioned himself to fall back asleep. Thorin chuckled and Bilbo glared at him.

“Fine, yes, bacon,” Bilbo agreed, facing Thorin he pursed his lips. “I blame your influence. Always going on about meat and all that dwarvish nonsense.”

“You love my dwarvish nonsense,” Thorin pointed out as he patted Frodo’s head. “You should go make breakfast before Fili and Kili decide to invade our rooms again for your lovely bacon breakfast cups.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't really eat bacon anymore. But I did see those lovely bacon cup things with cheese and eggs in them. I bet Bilbo can make them. And Fili and Kili would swipe them.
> 
> Oh and a baby Frodo is adorbs. Especially if said baby Frodo met Thorin.


	6. Random

At first Bilbo thought it was random. Whenever he and Thorin were talking at some isolated place at Beorn’s, not ten minutes later, one of the Company would show up and join them. It wasn’t that Bilbo minded, he did like the talks and the insights he gained during said talks, but he found it a bit peculiar that he and Thorin were never allowed to be alone for extended periods of time.

After they left Beorn’s, there were never any chances of being alone unless they snuck off together, not that Thorin would ever suggest that they do such a thing. Still, Bilbo found it odd that Fili or Kili would squeeze into the space between him and Thorin if they were ever seated beside each other.

That sort of strange behaviour continued until Laketown, where Thorin was fussing over the drenched hobbit, when Dwalin, of all dwarves, draped a blanket over Bilbo and pulled Thorin aside to talk to him in rapid Khuzdul.

Bilbo saw this as a chance to understand what on Middle Earth was happening and decided to ask the one dwarf who would likely give him an explanation: Balin.

“Balin,” Bilbo whispered, eyeing Thorin and Dwalin’s rather lively exchange. “May I have a word?”

“Certainly Laddie,” Balin nodded. “I expected this some time ago actually.”

They moved away from the group, still in the house, but far away enough from the others to have a sense of isolation. Not that anybody was paying attention. Oin and Fili were seeing to Kili. Gloin was talking to the older girl about his son. Both Nori and Dori were fussing over Ori. Bombur was eyeing the kitchen. Bofur and Bifur were entertaining the younger children with some toys (how they kept it throughout their ordeals, Bilbo had no clue.)

“This is about how you can further your courtship, isn’t it?” Balin asked knowingly. “While I must admit that this has been a rather unorthodox courtship, it has followed tradition in some way.”

“Excuse me,” Bilbo asked, his eyes wide as saucers (hobbit-sized saucers, you know, the sensibly sized ones.) “What courtship?”

“Why between you and Thorin, of course,” Balin answered, raising an eyebrow at Bilbo’s surprise.  “It’s hardly a secret. The whole Company knows.”

“The whole Company knows?” Bilbo asked, seemingly in distress. “And how long has the Company known?”

“Why, after he publicly declared his intentions at the Carrock,” Balin answered. “I’m certain that you two have had an understanding before that, perhaps in Rivendel? Have you not been aware?”

“No. No. No,” Bilbo replied. “No! I was going to ask why the others seem to pop up out of nowhere whenever Thorin and I talk.”

“It’s tradition,” Balin explained. “Courting couples must always be chaperoned. I take it that you had no idea that you two were courting in the manner of the our people?”

“Why is my life so complicated?” Bilbo groaned. He knew that he signed up for this, literally with the contract. His eyes wandered over to the King and he blushed, seeing that Thorin’s eyes were on him. Perhaps this courting thing wasn’t going to be so bad after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea with some words. Like this one. Hahaha. I just chose to be random. XD


	7. Jet

The terminal was packed with people of all ages. Children were chasing each other around, their parents were either busy talking to other grownups or on their mobile phones. Infants were crying from all the noise.

Thorin hated being in terminals for the long weekends. He hated the noise, he hated the lines, and he definitely hated the people who were smart enough to know how to book a ticket, but were apparently dumb or discourteous enough to be preoccupied with something else while they were checking in, leading to hold up in the lines.

Thorin particularly hated this long weekend because he was flying home alone when he fully expected to bring Bilbo over. Then again, he supposed it was his fault that Bilbo stormed off. If Bofur hadn’t called to tell him that Bilbo was crashing at his place that night, Thorin would probably be missing his flight, looking all over the place for Bilbo.

He sighed. Bilbo was a dream. An intelligent aspiring writer who loved maps but hated travelling for the same reason Thorin did: terminals. They had met just over two years ago, in a coffee shop of all the cliché places. Thorin had noticed Bilbo’s travel guide to Japan, and asked if he planned to do some travelling.

“Oh, this?” Bilbo asked, his eyes staring off into nowhere. “I wish I could travel. It’s just that, I hate terminals.”

“As do I,” Thorin chuckled.

“It’s the people,” they both said at the same time. They stared at each other and shared a smile. That was where it all began.

Thorin couldn’t even recall what had led to their argument the night before. But he was regretting it. Dis was looking forward to meeting Bilbo.

“You sound happy,” she said over the phone during one of his weekly calls to her at the start of his relationship with Bilbo. Her voice was a bit loud because her children were rough-housing in the background. “You haven’t sounded this happy in a long time.”

“I just miss home,” Thorin reasoned, smiling because of the note Bilbo had left on his fridge.

_Come over soon, I promise I won’t pelt you with acorns. –Bilbo_

“Hah,” Dis had scoffed. “Like I’d believe that. Just… be careful okay? I don’t want you hurt.”

“I’ll be fine, you worry too much.”

Thorin snapped out of his reverie when he heard the speakers announcing the final call for his flight. He rushed to the boarding gate just in time, but he couldn’t help but peek over his shoulder to see if a certain brunette was rushing to catch up.

No such luck.

Thorin shook his head. This wasn’t the movies, this was real life. And he doubted that he’d ever see Bilbo again.

Thorin stepped through the gates when,

“Thorin!”

It was an earthquake. Or something that was shaking him at least.

“Thorin wake up! We’re going to be late for our flight!”

Thorin rubbed the sleep from his eyes and stared at Bilbo, who was already dressed and frowning at him.

“Come on, sleepyhead,” Bilbo smiled awkwardly. “We are going to visit your family, aren’t we? I mean, if I’m still invited, despite our spat last ni--”

Thorin didn’t let Bilbo finish, cutting him off with a kiss. He had no idea how on earth Bilbo put up with him, but he was grateful.


	8. Cream

Bilbo loved his career, he really did. From a young age, he was always interested in cooking, baking specifically. His mother would let him help her around the kitchen, and ultimately, Bilbo became much better than her. His father thought that culinary school wasn’t going to pay off, and that Bilbo wouldn’t be financially stable, but Bungo was wrong. Sure, Bilbo wasn’t well-off, but he could pay his bills every month, had no debts, and still had enough money left over to save and buy pretty things. Not that he needed a career, Bilbo’s grandfather left him with a hefty enough inheritance, after all.

What Bilbo didn’t like about his job was rushing to finish an order. Usually he would have been up before dawn to complete an order of a few dozen cupcakes for a birthday party, but Thorin had kept him up all night, leading to a late start in the day.

They were still in the early stages of their relationship, their families knew they had each other, but they haven’t really met yet. Bilbo was set to meet Thorin’s family later that day at his nephew’s birthday party. This was why Bilbo was rushing. The customer said that she would come pick it up before noon.

Bilbo sighed as he finished making the second batch of buttercream frosting. He had a lot more cupcakes to frost, and not a lot of time to finish them. Refilling his piping bag, Bilbo looked over all the cupcakes he needed to do. It was a good thing that he finished the cake earlier.

Just as he was going to start frosting, his mobile rang. It was Thorin. Bilbo had half a mind to ignore the call, but he knew his boyfriend was running errands for the party and was probably calling to tell Bilbo he’ll be a little late picking him up.

Bilbo answered the call and put Thorin on loudspeaker so that he can work.

“Thorin?” he asked, reaching for a cupcake.

“Bilbo,” Thorin’s voice said over the speakerphone, making Bilbo’s insides melt. Gods, that voice was better than Bilbo’s red velvet cakes with buttercream frosting. “I’ll be a little bit late.”

“I figured,” Bilbo chuckled, finishing off another cupcake. “It’s alright. I’m not yet done anyway.”

“Dis hasn’t given me the address to the bakery yet,” Thorin explained. “I’ll pick you up after I get the cakes, okay?”

“Not a problem,” Bilbo assured him.

“I have to go, Dis is coming,” Thorin said. “See you in a bit.”

Bilbo didn’t bother replying nor did Thorin wait for a reply before hanging up. They understood that the other currently had other things to focus on.

Not thirty minutes later, Bilbo was already done and left his tools soaking in the sink for him to wash when he got back. Thorin pulled up in front of the shop and looked amused as he entered.

“Guess who Dis ordered the cakes from?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea what to call baking implements hence I called them tools. And I have no idea how long it'll take to frost cupcakes in that swirly pattern thing. So either Bilbo takes a long time to frost each cupcake (which is unlikely since he went to culinary school) or the order was massive.


	9. Shorts

Bilbo looked up from the book in his lap as soon as he realised that he had been reading the same line for a while now. He could hardly be blamed for his lack of progress on his reading material. Said material was a dry history of the dwarves and the Line of Durin. The same line that his roommate was descended from.

“You have to stop doing that,” Bilbo complained, shutting his book with a snap. “It’s distracting.”

Thorin just raised an eyebrow and continued doing his squats. Bilbo shook his head and sighed. Thorin was normally distracting. He was handsome, well-built, and, if he didn’t open his mouth, was generally appealing. Thorin shirtless and in shorts? That was a sight that would let any person, straight or otherwise, stop and take a second look. And Bilbo was far from straight.

The two had been roommates for the semester. Thorin was a political science student while Bilbo was a history major. They weren’t the best of friends, but they were civil. Especially after Thorin stopped being an ass and Bilbo stopped being the total neat freak. Thorin went to a medieval martial arts gym that Bilbo was volunteering at to learn medieval weaponry, that’s when they got to know each other.

Bilbo wasn’t certain about Thorin’s preferences. He certainly never brought anyone over. He also never seemed to have dates. Bilbo pegged it on Thorin being too serious about his studies.

Bilbo realized that he was still staring at Thorin’s butt when Dwalin barged into the room, snapping him out of his thoughts.

“Oi, Thorin,” Dwalin said waving his phone in the air. “You have to see this.”

Bilbo wasn’t interested in whatever that was, probably some sporting event or another. Dwalin was also a member at that gym, but they weren’t close. Bilbo did admire Dwalin’s brother who was a grad student though.

“What is it?” Thorin asked, doing one last squat before walking over, and stopping right in front of Bilbo’s desk. He didn’t even realise that his shorts were riding low on his hips, exposing a very lovely view for Bilbo to see.

A man could only take so much. Bilbo grabbed his book bag and his coat and quickly left the room, hoping that he could get some studying in before the library closed.

“What was that about?” Dwalin asked, not used to seeing the normally calm Bilbo so frazzled.

“Oh nothing,” Thorin said, smirking at how much he had affected his roommate. He had to make his move soon. The tension was getting to him. “Now what was it you wanted to show me?”


	10. Placid

Bilbo loved the Shire, generally speaking. Specifically, he loved Hobbiton. He loved the fact that despite it being a small bustling little town, there were still many places that he could go to to be alone. He had a particular spot he that loved, it was right next to a small stream, under a tree. He found it when he was a fauntling, and while growing up, it was a particularly nice and quiet spot to read and dream of adventures, or when he thought he outgrew adventures, it was a nice place to just be by himself and write poetry or practice sketches. Without a doubt, Bilbo loved the Shire.

He missed it too. Being the Consort Under the Mountain, he couldn’t really just up and go home. He had many duties to see to. Even if he could pass his duties to others for a time, he couldn’t just go off by himself or with a few dwarves to keep him company. No, Thorin Oakenshield, his stubbornly overprotective husband would insist on either accompanying Bilbo and leaving the Mountain in the capable hands of his sister and the less-than capable hands of his nephews or, if Thorin couldn’t come along, he would send an entire division of the army and a retinue of Royal Guards to go with Bilbo.

Bilbo shook his head. While he loved his Dwarf, and some other dwarves, he found their habits a bit stressful at time. They loved food and parties, and as a hobbit, Bilbo enjoyed this as well. But where hobbits had a set time to end a party, dwarves on the other hand could celebrate for weeks without stopping. In fact, they only stopped if the King says it should end (which Thorin never does), or if the ale should run out (rarely does the ale run dry), or if orcs would attack (this did not happen much and if it did, a successful routing of the orcs led to more celebrations.)

It was a good thing that dwarves had a work ethic, and they worked harder than they partied. That led to Bilbo’s current problem. Dwarves never stopped working, meaning the forges were always going on. The only silent parts of the Mountain were on the balconies and those were too cold to be comfortable in.

Even the Library was noisy. Bilbo once complained to Thorin about it, but Thorin just chuckled.

“We are dwarves Ghivashel,” he explained, kissing Bilbo’s brow. “Learning is an active and dynamic process with us. And the Library is a centre for learning.”

“But do they have to be so loud? And in the Library?” Bilbo had asked.

“They are young yet,” Thorin said. “Grown dwarves are loud, what more dwarflings? Besides, the Library is home to our Scribes, and they are the ones who are the first teachers.”

Bilbo furrowed his brow and started planning. Perhaps it was time to setup a school in Erebor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 10 for 10! This is an achievement for me. I hope you like what I'm doing. And thanks to all those who left Kudos (kudoses? kudi?) and reviews.


	11. Glass

When they first began their journey, Bilbo thought that Thorin was a stubborn dwarf. He also thought that the leader of the Company was rude and hot-headed. He was correct, but over the course of their time together, Bilbo learned Thorin’s other sides.

The King was kind-hearted and caring, although he never really seemed to show it. But Bilbo knew that no uncaring person would lay down his arms for another whom he thought was useless, nor would an uncaring person risk his own life to save the same person. Thorin was kind and brave. It was just his life and circumstances that had made him hard to the outside world.

It was also during this time that Thorin got to know Bilbo better as well. They had reached an understanding, an understanding had quickly blossomed into something more. Before they left Beorn’s, Thorin decided to make his move.

“Master Burglar,” Thorin said as they were getting things ready. “A word in private?”

“Of course,” Bilbo replied, giving the dwarf a small smile.

They walked to the back of the house where no one was around. Thorin had instructed Balin to keep the others, even his nephews, from spying on them. Thorin was side-stepping tradition a bit, but with the uncertainty of the rode ahead, he figured that he could be forgiven.

“Master Baggins,” Thorin began, and then shook his head. For what he was going to say, it seemed too impersonal to not call Bilbo by name. So he corrected himself. “Bilbo. I wish to present you with a gift, to show my intention.”

With little to no flourish, he held out a ring. The band was made of platinum, worth less than mithril, but more than gold. He had forged it himself when he was young and Erebor was still theirs. The stone in the middle he had sold off long ago to help feed his people. In its place was a glass replica.

“The ring was forged by my own hands, to symbolize my wish to forge a bond with you,” Thorin said the ancient words, translated from the original Khuzdul, but the meaning was present. “I apologise that the stone is but glass. I would replace it when we reclaim Erebor.”

Bilbo was stunned. Only in his wildest dreams did he think that this would happen. And certainly not like this! Bilbo opened his mouth to reply, but found that no words came out. He tried again, raising a finger to emphasize something, but still he could find nothing to say. Bilbo pursed his lips and took a deep breath. Third time’s the charm after all.

“I accept.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that using a ring as an initial courting gift seems odd because giving a ring is usually reserved for engagements or weddings. But I figured since dwarves only love once, they court with the intention to marry.
> 
> I'm still missing 5 prompts, so any prompts are very much welcome. ^.^


	12. Book

Thorin wanted to burn down the Library. Not for any dislike of books, but because it kept his Consort from returning to their rooms at a sensible time. Thorin understood Bilbo’s love for books, but even after putting in a full day on Consort duties, Bilbo still seemed to have enough energy to spend at least an hour in the Library.

Or at least it was just that long before. In the past week, Bilbo was spending more and more time in the Library than he was in their rooms. The other night, Thorin awoke to Bilbo sneaking in long after Thorin had turned in for the night.

This night was the last straw, Bilbo had actually missed dinner!

As a hobbit who claims to be fond of his meals, Thorin found this entirely suspicious. Surely no tome could be so interesting as to keep Bilbo from food. That was why the King was on his way to the Library.

As soon as Thorin entered, scribes who were scurrying to and fro stopped and bowed to him and asked what he was doing there. Ori had actually looked at him and squeaked before making a hasty bow and rushing off to one portion of the Library.

Now if that wasn’t at all suspicious.

Thorin followed making big strides in order to keep up. It became apparent that big strides were not enough to follow Ori who had broken into a run, Thorin soon started jogging and then, finally, running to catch up to the youngest Ri brother.

Ori was entering a room when he looked over his shoulder. Seeing Thorin, his eyes became huge, but turned his head to face whoever it was inside the room. Thorin saw him widely gesturing with his arms and visibly relax after a moment. Ori stepped out of the doorway just as Thorin was a few feet away.

“Your Majesty,” Ori greeted with a smile. “Bilbo is right this way.”

“Ori,” Thorin returned the greeting with a tilt of his head. “You know you are allowed to call me by name.”

“O-of course, your Maj- uh,” Ori blushed. It was hard for the scribe to be informal with the King, it didn’t matter that he was part of the company, nor did it matter that Ori was friends with the Consort and the Royal Heirs. Dori’s etiquette lessons were just that hard to shake off (despite Nori’s influence.) “Thorin. Bilbo’s inside.”

Thorin chuckled as he entered the room. Inside, Bilbo was waiting for him, smiling and holding out a red book.

“What is this?” Thorin asked, opening the book.

“It’s our story,” Bilbo said. “Of taking back the mountain.”

“Is it?” Thorin flipped through the pages and stopped at the last page.

_And he lived happily ever after, to the end of his days._

“And I intend to make sure you do, Ghivashel,” Thorin said, making Bilbo blush as the King kissed his forehead first, then his lips. “Starting with dinner.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's still the 12th in some part of the world, right?
> 
> Many thanks to [BakerStTimeLord](http://archiveofourown.org/users/BakerStTimeLord/pseuds/BakerStTimeLord) for this prompt.


	13. Blood

Bilbo had never seen so much blood before. It stained the streets of Dale. It covered the lands in front of the gates of Erebor. It poured out of Thorin.

The hobbit felt a his blood run cold at the last thought, remembering how futile it seemed when he was putting pressure on Thorin’s wound to staunch the bleeding. It would have ended in vain if Gandalf had not shown up.

The wizard had come running towards them. He took one look at Bilbo and Thorin and then grabbed them both, instructed Bilbo to close his eyes, and in a flash of light, they suddenly appeared in an Elven medical tent. The elves inside it were surprised by their appearance, but only because they were unexpected, not because they were amazed that they could appear. Gandalf it seemed had more tricks than changing his voice or making pretty fireworks.

The elves then hefted Thorin onto a cot, not even blinking an eye at the wound. They were stripping him when Bilbo was ushered out of the tent.

That was three days ago. Thorin was currently sharing a tent with Fili, who, Bilbo found out later, was the reason why Gandalf was late. The wizard had chased after Bilbo and arrived at Raven hill just after Fili was dropped. He then did his teleportation to get Fili to the medics. Gandalf then climbed back to Raven Hill and saw the last of Thorin’s battle with Azog and then ran to save Thorin.

Bilbo sighed as he stared at his King.

“When will you wake up?” Bilbo asked him, not really expecting a reply, but hating the silence of the tent. “Fili is already stirring in his sleep. Kili rarely leaves his side. Only when Tauriel comes does he even smile.”

Kili almost died, not that Bilbo will be telling Thorin that any time soon. Legolas had saved Kili by launching a dagger with his bow. It was an impossible feat, but that day seemed to be the day on which the impossible was made possible.

“Your sister sent a raven,” Bilbo continued. “She’s on her way here. Balin mentioned that the fear of Dis might wake you. Dwalin said that if she arrived and you were still asleep, she’d take over the kingdom and nobody would complain.”

“And right they would. Amad is amazing,” Kili said as he entered the tent, smirking at the thought of his mother. He quickly turned somber. “No improvements?”

“No, nothing yet,” Bilbo shook his head. “The healers—“

“The healers say a lot of things,” Kili replied. “I’ll be instructing the dwarves. That’s what Thorin would want me to do.”

Kili left without another word. Bilbo knew how keeping busy would help the young dwarf. But he also knew how it felt not to be there at a loved one’s side when they took their final breath.

Bilbo shook his head, refusing to think about that. He took Thorin’s hand, feeling how warm it was, reminding himself that Thorin was still alive.

“Don’t you dare die on me,” Bilbo said, squeezing the hand. “We still have things to discuss.”

To Bilbo’s great surprise and joy, Thorin squeezed back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh look another chapter. I'm back on schedule woohoo!


	14. Strings

Thorin plucked the strings of his harp one more time, checking if it was in tune. After more than a century of gathering dust in his rooms in Erebor, it was still making music and, surprisingly, needed little tuning to get it back to working order. Then again, it was of dwarvish make, and anything dwarves made were meant to last.

The king nervously plucked through an opening to a dwarvish ballad, his hands more accustomed to swords and hammers rather than the instrument in his lap, but as soon as he stumbled through the first bars of the song, his fingers seemed to remember what to do on their own.

Thorin knew that his performance didn’t have to be perfect, but he did want it to be as close to perfect as possible. Dwarves like to impress others, more so when they were courting. And Thorin wanted to impress Bilbo.

The hobbit had mentioned his love for music, ranging from the mournful-sounding songs of the elves to bar ditties similar to what Bofur loved to perform. For their courtship however, tradition dictated that dwarven love ballad be sung and responded to.

“You don’t have to go through all that trouble,” Bilbo had argued once he found out that Thorin had to translate the song from Khuzdul just so Bilbo could understand it and reply correctly. “I understand your intention, and that’s what is more important, is it not?”

“It is tradition,” Thorin had insisted. “Although not many dwarves court outside our race, they do change the song to match their intendeds.”

“Do we really have to go through all this pomp and circumstance?” Bilbo had asked, twisting the ring he wore on a chain around his neck. The ring that Thorin had gifted him with at the start of their unorthodox courtship back when the future was uncertain. “Fili and Kili have informed me that we could have gotten married on the battlefield.”

“That is true,” Thorin nodded. “But we did not, so now we have to go through the traditions of my people. As is expected.”

“So,” Bilbo smiled sheepishly. “This won’t be a public thing, would it? The song you’ll be playing that is.”

“Family and friends only,” Thorin assured him. “And you’ll be singing the bare minimum. I promise.”

Thorin only had a few hours to practice playing the melody perfectly. Even though he knew that Bilbo would not reject him, the thought that he was actually going to court Bilbo was making his stomach flip with excitement. This was going to be the first step towards their life together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not so long, and a bit cheesy at the end, so I apologise. I made this feeling rushed because I have to pack! Haha, I hope you liked it anyway.


	15. Brimstone

Bilbo had no idea where Thorin was taking him to. The premise of it all was a picnic lunch. Bilbo was glad that he could spend time with Thorin. The dwarf king was always busy, and while they did spend evenings and early mornings together, on most days they never get to see each other during the day.

Bilbo knew that an ‘intimate’ lunch with his husband was probably going to be a small retinue of dwarves with Dwalin or Nori or the both of them leading their own contingent of dwarves whose main purpose was to protect the royal family. Not that they’d ever notice if Nori was there, a missing sandwich or cake probably, but not Nori himself. The theif-turned-spymaster was just that good at what he did.

At Erebor’s gates, Bilbo was proven correct. No less than ten dwarves, not including Thorin and Dwalin were there waiting for him. Bilbo still wasn’t used to needing guards, even after a year of being the Royal Consort. Neither, it seemed, was Thorin, judging by the look he was giving Dwalin.

“Shall we be off?” Bilbo asked, smiling despite his unease at the number of guards.

“Let’s,” Thorin replied, offering a smile and an arm to Bilbo. “It won’t be far.”

By not far, Thorin had meant a thirty minute walk. While Bilbo didn’t mind the walking, he did mind the sweating. His clothes just weren’t meant for it. He had said so to his husband only to be smiled at and called a “fussy hobbit” with “hobbitish sensibilities.”

To which, of course, Bilbo had replied:

“I’m glad you agree that hobbits are sensible. Dwarves on the other hand—“

Thorin decided to silence him with a kiss, which partially embarrassed him and partially cleared his mind of any other thought but his husband.

“Hush Ghivashel,” Thorin said after he pulled away from their kiss. “We’re almost there.”

They soon arrived at a field filled with wildflowers and butterflies. Their escort had set up a perimeter around them, leaving them alone in the middle on their own blanket.

“Thorin,” Bilbo said, taking in the view.  “This is beautiful.”

“That’s not all Bilbo,” Thorin said pointing at the butterflies. “Those are called brimstones.”

“Brimstone?” Bilbo asked, tilting his head to one side. “As in the rock?”

“Exactly like the rock,” Thorin agreed. “Look at their wings, as yellow as brimstone.”

“I see,” Bilbo nodded seriously. “And, why are we here?”

“To be among your silly weeds,” Thorin said indicating the flowers that surrounded them. “And my silly rocks. See how the brimstone are attracted to the flowers, just as I am attracted to you. And I always shall be.”

Bilbo blushed. He could hardly believe that this was the same dwarf who had insulted him inside his own smial. He smiled. He was hardly the same hobbit, why should he expect any different from Thorin? They fell in love, and that alone can change a person.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brimstone Butterflies do exist. I was going to do fire and brimstone, but I ended up making this fluff up. I make no excuses. They deserve fluff.


	16. Tears

Bilbo was already in bed when Thorin came in. Thinking that his Consort was already asleep, the dwarf king tried to sneak past the bed to get to their bathroom. He found out that it was all in vain when Bilbo sat up and rubbed the sleep from his eyes.

"Thorin?" Bilbo asked, his voice raspy from sleep. "What time is it?"

"It's just past midnight, Ghivashel," Thorin replied, moving over to sit beside Bilbo on the bed. "You should get some sleep, you'll beed your strength attending to the sick tomorrow."

"You need your sleep as well," Bilbo nagged. "You aren't as young as you used to be and yet you still wish to lead the charge. It's—"

"Bilbo," Thorin interrupted. "I am a dwarf of Erebor, and what's more, I am her King. I cannot sit idly by and let my soldiers fight to defend her without me."

"And what of me?" Bilbo asked, choosing this instance to be selfish. "I've been losing myself because of the Ring. Frodo, our son, is probably lost to us as well! I cannot stand to lose you too Thorin. You promised me that you shall not cause me tears again, and now..."

Bilbo trailed off, the tears gathering in his eyes. He stopped them from falling through sheer willpower alone, but Thorin knew they were there. The king reached over to wipe his consort's eyes.

"I am a dwarf, Bilbo," Thorin reminded him. "It is not in me to cower in fear. Our son is alive, and we both know it. He will come back to us. And I will come back to you, as I have always returned to you, and you to me. We found each other through madness. A battle will not keep me from you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I write a sappy Thorin, don't I?
> 
> I apologise for whatever errors can be found above. I had to type this on my tab.


	17. Water

It was a well known fact in Erebor that Bilbo hated swimming. Any water that was deeper than Bilbo was tall, made the hobbit feel uncomfortable. Even the great bathhouses of Erebor, which were another sort of treasure that the dwarves coveted, were places that Bilbo tended to avoid.

Bilbo pegged it on being a sensible hobbit. The Company, his husband especially, blamed the elves. Thorin reasoned that if it weren't for the elves imprisoning them, Bilbo would not have had to go down the river clinging onto barrels.

Thorin even went as far as to bring it up at almost every diplomatic dinner that Thranduil attended. Bilbo tried his best to cut Thorin off because every mention of the imprisonment led the Elven King to mention Thorin's gold sickness. That would lead to an apologetic Thorin trying to make it up to Bilbo in the most ridiculous ways imaginable.

One time it was a room filled with flowers. While Bilbo liked flowers, he preferred them in the ground growing, not in vases. To him it just seemed like a waste of perfectly good plant life. The next it was a room filled with sweets. Bilbo loved sweets as much as the next hobbit, but a room full of them was bad for him. He had to call in Fili and Kili to help consume the lot.

"I hope Uncle apologises like this again, Uncle Bilbo," Kili had said he ran around the room because of the excess energy. "Fili and I benefit."

"I hope he has common sense enough not to goad Thranduil next time," Fili complained, lying on the floor due to how full he was."Kili and I would have to train longer and harder in the next few days just to make sure we don't gain any weight."

Bilbo just chuckled at his nephews' antics. They had eaten roughly the same amount, but then again, Bilbo was a hobbit and hobbits could out-eat any other race in Arda.

Thorin did have apologies which were sensible. The simplest one was after a particularly calm affair (calm in the sense that there were only five threats exchanged during the night.)

"Ghivashel," Thorin had said when they entered their chambers. "I apologise for my actions earlier this evening. I know you do not like to be reminded of that time."

"Thorin," Bilbo asked, furrowing his brow. "Are you apologising because you think that Thranduil mentioning your bout with Gold Sickness hurts me?"

Thorin just nodded, obviously contrite.

"You aren't going to apologise for nearly causing us to go to war with Elves because you keep baiting Thranduil?"

"The Elf knows that the baiting is harmless enough," Thorin reasoned. "He does not seem to understand that bringing up my illness is affecting you. I do not mind being reminded of it, it shows how far I've come and how much stronger I am now. But you--"

"Oh you daft dwarf," Bilbo interrupted, launching himself at his husband and kissing him. "It does not matter to me either."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, this started off with water and took a left somewhere. Hence the weird conclusion.


	18. Pets

Bilbo didn't have pets. He had babies.

It didn't matter to him that his babies were from another species altogether, he did marry into a dwarven family after all. It irked him that some people just treated his children as if they were his pets or worse, his animals.

And he knew several dwarves who behaved worse than animals, in his opinion. Still, he had to admit that calling his two pugs as his babies bordered on eccentric.

It had started out simply enough. Bilbo had found the two lost dogs roaming around the tent city after the Battle. They were filthy and starving, and Bilbo knew that there were scraps that were going to the remaining war pigs and war goats. He figured that a few bowls wouldn't be missed. So he ended up feeding them day after day after he had finished helping in whatever way he could but before going to sit with Thorin.

After a few days, he did the worst thing a person could do in that situation.

He named them.

When Thorin awoke and started courting him, it was already a given that the dogs would stay as well. Thorin made sure that Bilbo had a place for them and had even made them collars. The dogs had started "chaperoning" them and, while the king thought that his sister or his nephews had something to do with that, Thorin accepted it. It wasn't until after he and Bilbo were wed that Thorin wanted to give the dogs separate quarters because of the constant supervision.

But Bilbo put his foot down.

"Where they go I go," Bilbo said, adamantly refusing to relocate his dogs.

"Ghivashel," Thorin pleaded. "Please, let them have their own sleeping area at least. The bed is big, yes. But they are always in between us."

"But Thorin!" Bilbo protested. "We can't leave them in a room all by themselves, they'll get lonely."

"Lonely?" Thorin asked, clearly not following Bilbo's line of thought.

"Yes!" Bilbo confirmed. "What kind of parents will we be then?"

"Parents?" Thorin's eye twitched.

"Yes!" Bilbo nodded his head. "They are our babies!"

Thorin's face froze for a bit before he nodded and left the room. Bilbo wasn't really serious, but he also didn't want to leave their 'babies' outside or in a separate set of rooms as Thorin had suggested.

Thorin on the other hand took some time to compose himself and accept that it was probably just one of Bilbo's hobbity quirks. Like the seven meals in a day, Thorin chose to accept it and agreed that the dogs were their 'babies'.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Loosely based on Ewebean's Pugs of Erebor. If you haven't seen those yet, you should.


	19. Boat

Frodo was afraid of boats, deathly afraid of boats. At first, Bilbo thought that it was just the natural wariness that most hobbits had with bodies of water, but he came to realise too late that Frodo would not get on a boat or near any water deeper than a bathtub.

Bilbo was contacted when Drogo and Primula Baggins had died and had named him as Frodo's guardian. He had been away from Hobbiton for so long that the one in charge of their estate thought that it was highly unlikely that Bilbo would return, especially for a child that he had never met.

But Bilbo did return, a few months after his cousins had been buried and Frodo left in the care of his Brandybuck relatives. It wasn't an easy journey from Erebor to the Shire, and Thorin was reluctant to part with his Consort. But the King understood the importance of family, and a child in need was never something that Thorin would ignore.

He did, however, want to assign a whole contingent of dwarves to protect Bilbo on the journey. Bilbo had to put his foot down because a whole contingent of the Dwarven Guard going to pick up a lone fauntling was just ridiculous.

So Bilbo had traveled to the Shire with an escort (Dwalin and Dori) among others of the Royal Guard. They encountered no delays and reached the Shire after a few months on the road. Their welcome wasn't exactly a warm one, but it was expected given how wary hobbits were of outsiders and Big Folk.

Still Bilbo met Frodo, and upon seeing the child, immediately fell in love with him. Bilbo offered Frodo a place with him in Erebor, and Frodo had accepted, having known Bilbo from Primula's stories of him. After all the legalities were settled and they were all packed, Bilbo and his entourage were on the road home. When they reached the Brandywine and had to cross it using the barge, that's when Frodo had acted up.

"No boats!" Frodo protested. "They sink and you drown and die."

Bilbo tried explaining to Frodo but the child would not listen. In the end they either had to drug Frodo to get him to calm down and sleep or they would take the long way out of the Shire. Bilbo knew there was only one choice. That was why he sent a raven to Thorin explaining that they'd be a bit later in returning than expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, this chapter is super late, but I've been away. So, I'll upload each chapter as I finish, hopefully.


	20. Pee

Bilbo had no idea how it happened. One moment, they were having a nice visit from Gandalf, catching up on things, sharing stories and the like, while in the corner, Kili was goofing off with Gandalf’s staff and then the next, he and Fili were suddenly turned into toddlers! That would have been funny if Gandalf had reversed it immediately but the Wizard couldn’t.

“I seem to have forgotten how to fix this,” Gandalf said, rubbing his chin through his beard. “Worry not, the spell will reverse itself in due time.”

“Time?” Bilbo asked. “You mean… they’ll have to age up normally?”

Bilbo’s brow was furrowed. Fili and Kili were mischievous enough as young adults, how much more trouble could they get into as children? Thorin seemed terrified at the thought of having to go through both of his nephews’ pubescent stage again. Dwalin was muttering something along the lines of ‘serves them right.’ Thankfully, Gandalf had set them straight.

“Oh no my dear Hobbit,” Gandalf explained. “I mean that this enchantment should only be temporary, seeing as it wasn’t a wizard who had cast it on them. For now all that can be done is take care of the two.”

That declaration was the reason why Bilbo had been covered in thrown food and Kili’s saliva (who knew that the child had a propensity for licking?) Thorin had decided that since Bilbo’s duties as Consort were being handled by Dis, and they didn’t really wish for the general populace to hear about what happened to the two princes, Bilbo would be the one to take care of the two.

It was all fine until Fili got his hands on some sugar. It led to a hyperactive dwarfling. As much as Fili was a nice and polite child, he was still a child, and a mischievous one at that. Whatever Fili planned, Kili would follow. So when Fili decided to run naked around the room, Kili did the same. The worst part was when Fili decided he was a dog and was going to mark his territory.

If Bilbo were asked, it would have been easier to tell what parts of the room the two _hadn’t_ peed on.

Thus when Thorin entered their chambers that evening, he found a very tired hobbit sleeping on the couch and a partially messy room (Bilbo had cleaned up a bit after the boys were put to bed). Having helped raised the two, Thorin knew how much trouble they could cause. So he picked up his husband and made his way to their room.

 


	21. Next

Thorin didn't know what was going to happen next. In his mind, it should be simple. He had feelings for Bilbo, and he was certain that Bilbo felt the same for him. Despite Bilbo's betrayal and Thorin's gold sickness, those feelings did not change. Or at least Thorin knew that his feelings for the hobbit did not change. Bilbo has been warm to him after the Battle, and Thorin chose to interpret that as a positive sign.

If Thorin were just a simple smith, he would have started courting Bilbo as soon as he could have. And at this point of their courtship, he would already be forging Bilbo's wedding beads. Thorin sighed. He was not and had never been a simple smith, as Dis would remind him. He was a king, and as such he was obligated to carry out all the rituals and traditions that his station asked of him.

That was why Thorin was worried. A king's courtship is a public affair, and many more people are involved in it. He needed the approval of not only Bilbo's kin, but also of his Council in order to proceed with a courtship. Seeing as Bilbo is the head of his family (and he seems to accept Thorin's advances), that was one out of two. Of his Council though, Thorin only had Balin with him. While Balin approved whole-heartedly of the relationship between the two, he did not have enough authority to allow Thorin to proceed.

"Thorin?" Bilbo asked, snapping Thorin out of his thoughts as he entered the King's tent. "I was wondering if I could have a word?"

"Of course Master Baggins," Thorin gestured to a seat. "If you will?"

Bilbo took the seat with a smile, and took a deep breath. "Thorin," he began, stopping to take a few quick breaths. He was obviously nervous about something. This in turn made Thorin nervous. What if Bilbo was here to say that he was leaving?

"Master Baggins, are you alright?" Thorin asked.

"Why are you so formal?" Bilbo asked. "We were friends once. Can we not be friends again?"

"Bilbo," Thorin said. The request was simple. To be friends again. Thorin thought that they were more than friends, perhaps he was wrong, that it was all in his head. He put on a brave smile. "Of course we could be friends."

"Oh good," Bilbo gave off a nervous laugh. "And perhaps we could be more?"

Thorin could not believe his ears, and neither could he say a word it seemed as Bilbo stared at him. The hobbit's cheeks had turned to a beautiful shade of red that soon deepened as Thorin still didn't reply.

"I shouldn't have--" Bilbo began, standing up abruptly.

"Yes," Thorin cut in. Standing to stop Bilbo from leaving. "Yes, I would like us to be more."


	22. Flag

Bilbo hated Mondays. It wasn’t just the common hate for Mondays that most people had either. He hated Mondays because on Mondays, he had to get up and get ready for school thirty minutes earlier than other weekdays all for some flag raising ceremony. While Bilbo was a bit of a morning person, he also loved his sleep.

It wasn’t always like this. Bilbo grew up in the country of the Shire. Back there, there was no ceremony every Monday. The flag was respected, yes. Their anthem was sung, reverently. It was only during national holidays that they had ceremonies.

But when his mother was offered a teaching position at the University of Erebor, Belladonna jumped at the chance to teach at the prestigious school. Bungo, not one to allow that their family would be separated for a long period of time, decided that they should all move to Erebor, a kingdom with all its pomp and ceremonies that made Bilbo uncomfortable as soon as he got there.

Due to Belladonna’s employment and Bilbo’s good academic performance, Bilbo was offered a scholarship at the most prestigious (and exclusive) high school in the country. It was the same one that the Royal Children, Princes Thorin and Frerin, and Princess Dis, attended.

The people of Erebor loved their history, in fact, it was mandatory all throughout their schooling career. Seeing as Bilbo was a transferee, he had to take extra history lessons just to make up for it. Bilbo wasn’t at all surprised to learn about some legend or another stating that the people of Erebor were descended from dwarves, given the wide berth of his classmates’ shoulders. Their tall statures he attributed to generations of good nutrition and vitamins. This meant that Bilbo was always at the front of the line during flag ceremonies.

Bilbo had been here for six months, five in school, and he still hated Monday flag ceremonies. Bofur, Bilbo’s first friend and another scholar, informed him that all “dwarven” nations were like this. Khazadum, Agarlond, and even Ered Luin, which was now a democracy, all had great respect for their flags.

There was one bright spot in all of this though. The national anthem was always sung by one of the Royal Children. This week, it was Prince Thorin’s turn. Thorin had a wonderful voice and while he was singing, his eyes met Bilbo’s.

Bilbo wasn’t sure how the prince managed to smirk while he was singing, but he did. Bilbo blushed, remembering the last time they were together. Thorin had expressed his interest in Bilbo with a kiss, and Bilbo had returned the kiss, only to quickly back away a moment later. He had promised to answer Thorin as soon as he was certain of some things.

Thorin agreed to wait patiently, he _was_ waiting patiently. That didn’t mean that he wasn’t having a good time teasing Bilbo while he waited.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like this one. Maybe I’ll write something in this ‘verse if I have time. What do you think?


	23. Seen

Thorin knew war. He had known the bite of hopelessness when they were outnumbered and kingless at Azanulzibar. He had felt the boost in the moral of his people when Azog had retreated. He had seen the price of war, the carnage at the field of battle, the widow, widowers, and orphans left in its wake.

Yes, Thorin knew war.

Which was why on the eve of the battle with the elves, he sought to arm his Company with the best weapons and armor that they could find on short notice in Erebor. They may be outnumbered, but let it not be said that Thorin King did not protect his own.

Or at least he tried to. Bilbo was being stubborn. Despite being a hobbit, and loving gifts, he had approached Thorin that evening to return the mithril vest that Thorin had given him.

“Thorin?” Bilbo said as he fidgeted, standing a few feet away from the king.

Thorin was in the Hall of Kings, staring at the golden floor that they had created. Bofur had told Bilbo that the floor could be fixed, the gold removed, if the King wished it so. Judging from how enraptured Thorin was at the moment though, Bilbo did not think it likely. Perhaps the battle could shock the dwarf out of it.

“Master Baggins,” Thorin greeted with a nod of his head. “What brings you here? You should be getting as much rest as you can. You need your strength for whatever the challenges tomorrow would bring.”

Thorin meant that. He needed every able body that there was. As much as he loathed the thought of having Bilbo join the battle, he could not spare him. He could, however, ensure that Bilbo was not at the frontlines and was well-protected, hence the mithril.

“I… uh,” Bilbo hesitated. It wasn’t good manners to return a gift. “I came to return this.”

He held out the mithril vest. Thorin glanced at it and shook his head.

“It was a gift Master Baggins,” Thorin said. “A token of my esteem. I would like for you to use it tomorrow.”

Thorin approached Bilbo. Taking the mail, he indicated that Bilbo raise his arms, intending to put it on the hobbit once more. Bilbo did not move for a few seconds, studying Thorin’s face. Seeing the stubbornness of the king’s jaw, Bilbo sighed and started taking off his overcoat.

“This could serve you or the boys better, you know?” Bilbo pointed out. “You’re all likely to jump into the heart of it all.”

“It could, if it fit any of us,” Thorin agreed, making sure that the mail was in place. “But it would not fit me or Kili, and it would restrict Fili’s movements if he wore it. My sister-sons are well-trained and, while they do not act it, they are responsible. I can trust them to see to their safety in battle.”

“And me?” Bilbo asked. Thorin and he were standing close to each other, so Bilbo had to look up at the dwarf. “Why give me the mail?”

“The most precious of things deserve the most protection,” Thorin answered cryptically as he place a hand on Bilbo’s shoulder. “We will have much to discuss after the battle, you and I. Seek out your bed and get what rest you still could.”

Bilbo would have argued if he saw that it would do some good, but seeing Thorin’s eyes glaze over, he knew it would not have mattered in the least. Mind made up, Bilbo left the hall and the mountain and made his way into Thranduil’s camp.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let’s hope this one isn’t riddled with typos, yes? Tell me what you think?


	24. Haircut

Dwarves had a different practice when it came to their hair. Hair was important to them and their culture. Proper dwarves had long hair, tied or braided back so it wouldn’t get in the way of whatever crafting they were doing. Dwarves with short hair tended to compensate with long beards. Haircuts were just an annual thing if ever, seeing as how slow their hair grew.

While Bilbo respected the dwarves and their hair culture, he was a hobbit, and a proper one before his Adventure. Proper male hobbits did not have long hair. He and Thorin had compromised on that one. He would wear his marriage braid signifying that he married into the Line of Durin, but the rest of his hair would be kept at a proper length.

At first, Thorin didn’t like it. But as the braid lengthened with each haircut, he changed his opinion. Dwarven braids were often lost in all the other braids or even just the mass of the hair of the dwarf. Bilbo’s marriage braid stood out in a way that, even if a dwarf could mistake him for a child at first glance, they could tell right away that Bilbo belonged in the Line of Durin.

Bilbo’s haircuts were tolerated after that. Their adopted son Frodo, however, was another story.

“Frodo lad,” Bilbo said over family breakfast. “Your hair is getting longer, we cut it.”

“No,” Frodo protested, vehemently shaking his head. “Fee and Kee don’t cut their hair, why should I?”

The two dwarves in question stopped eating and widened their eyes. Not this again. Every two months or so Frodo made the same argument, and they were always caught in the middle of it. They really ought to ask Bilbo to warn them next time he brought up haircuts.

“They are dwarves,” Bilbo explained patiently, as if he hadn’t explained this a few times already. “We’re hobbits, our hair is different.”

“No,” Frodo refused. “You’re a hobbit. I’m a dwobbit. That’s why you are Dad and Papa is Papa. Fee and Kee said so. That means I’m part dwarf, which means I can wear my hair like them.”

Bilbo narrowed his eyes at the two princes, both of whom looked like they were going to bolt at any minute. Whatever mischief and nonsense those two came up with, Frodo was sure to believe and follow. Honestly, they should be more responsible.

“You are a hobbit, Frodo Baggins,” Bilbo said, putting all the authority he could in his voice. “Don’t believe all the nonsense that these two tell you. You are getting a haircut and that’s final.”

Later, when Bilbo told Thorin of the dwobbit thing, Thorin just laughed it off, happy that Frodo accepted him as a father.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's not a Hobbit fic if dwarven hair culture isn't mentioned, is it? Haha


	25. Thumbs

Bilbo Baggins was proficient at many things. She could cook a variety of dished quite well. She could write prose and poetry. She could steal from an Elf King and a dragon. She could even use Sting in basic defense, after months of training, that is.

What she was all thumbs at, however, was knitting.

Oh sure, she could sew, embroider, and crochet, but knitting had always been beyond her. It never really bothered her before, but as soon as she found out she was pregnant, one of the first things she wanted to do was knit a pair of baby booties to tell Thorin.

Call her old-fashioned, but in the Shire, they did things properly. While she wasn’t the proper hobbit that she used to be, she was still a Baggins (currently married into the Line of Durin). If she didn’t do it properly, then Bungo would probably roll around in his grave (while Belladonna laughs in hers.)

She didn’t have a lot of time to learn how to knit. Sure, she could crochet the booties, but those usually turned out different, and stiff. She could buy booties, or have Ori make them, Mahal knows he was probably sick of tutoring her, but those were quick shortcuts, and a Baggins never took shortcuts (unless they were late for dinner!)

Thorin noticed the change in his wife’s activities. Before bed, they would usually sit in front of the fire and he would smoke or play the harp, while she would read or smoke or read while smoking. In recent weeks, she was wrangling with knitting needles and yarn. That evening, she was doing so while muttering curses under her breath.

“Ghivashel,” Thorin said hesitantly, knowing full well how stubborn Bilbo could be when it came to some things. “Has the yarn insulted you in some way? Shall I call the Royal Guard so that it could spend the night in the dungeons? Or shall we execute it here and now? I have Orcrist right here.”

“Oh ha-bloody-ha Thorin Oakenshield,” Bilbo retorted. “It’s just tangled, is all.”

Thorin glanced over at the ball, or at what was a ball, and winced.

“Perhaps a burning would be more appropriate?” Thorin suggested.

“I’m still learning!” Bilbo protested, shooting her husband a dark look. “Wait and see, I’ll make something of this yet!”

Thorin had to admire her persistence and enthusiasm, if not her skill. He understood that it was important to her, and wished her all the best, he truly did. But he knew a hopeless case when he saw one. Still he smiled at her.

“Don’t give me that condescending smile!” Bilbo stood and threw the yarn at him, deciding to give up for the day. Making her way to their bedroom she stopped and yelled. “Just you wait, I’ll make the best pair of baby booties, you’ll ever see!”

“Baby booties?” Thorn’s eyes widened as he looked at the yarn, then the door to their room. Realization steeped in.

He quickly got up and raced to their room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last one for the day, meaning, I have to do five tomorrow... *faints*


End file.
